


Sensitize Me

by AKnightOfAGoodKing



Series: And if you were never friends, that the world is wrong. [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Flowers, Friendship/Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Profound Bond, Rejection, Soulmates, forced confession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 07:10:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12721995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKnightOfAGoodKing/pseuds/AKnightOfAGoodKing
Summary: Excerpt:[Cassandra frowned. “You lie,” she said slowly. “You’re hurting. You're afraid. Me too. Used to. Then you. Steph. Babs. Alfred. Dick. Tim. Dami. Jay. Azrael. Kon. Everyone. Gotham. Love.”Bruce sighed, closing his eyes.“I can name more, B,” she said. “Dozens. You showed me I had faces. You should show yours more. All of them. Bats can smile too. I do.”For a moment, hearing his daughter speak so sweetly, he felt the blood in his heart pump out, and it was a shimmering heat.]





	Sensitize Me

**Author's Note:**

> **[DO NOT REPOST/REUSE MY WORK(S) WITHOUT MY ACKNOWLEDGEMENT AND PERMISSION]**

_There is hope on his handsome face, boyish to reflect his youth yet crinkled around his lips and eyes._ ** _Naïve_** _._ _“I love you,” he confesses shyly, his blue eyes like a sunlit sky. He is smiling, extending a gentle hand out as he hovers right beside the rooftop of the tallest building in Gotham._ ** _Trust me,_** _he silently whispers._

_And Batman lets his heart drown in the sound of his words, breaking the pieces off himself because it's too dangerous to let them be so exposed, to be so open even to each other. It’s too dangerous to be in love, and Bruce knows there is so much more Superman could do without him. If he is not a broken man, he is not a good man either._

_“I’m sorry,” he says once, voice forcibly strong and still. Never in his life has he been so glad to have lined his cowl with lead because then Superman couldn't see the numbness settling in, and it seeps in like nicotine into the bloodstream, taking over and keeping him from what he wants to be. “I don’t feel the same way. Though, I hope we remain good friends.”_

_And he leaves, walking away from the strongest man on Earth and shooting a hook at the building across the way. He doesn’t look back as he swings further and further away from the one he loves in return. He keeps his calm as the numbness finally settles itself in his heart._

_._

_._

_._

Nightwing loved Batman, his mentor, his protector, his friend, his _father._ He loved that man with everything he had, so he was a little more than shock to slowly come to the realization that Batman and Superman used to be in love. He was much more so when he realized that they still _were_. They just didn't do anything about it over a decade in the process.

He couldn't blame himself for not noticing it much earlier. He was only twelve when he was first introduced as Robin, and one of the first superheroes he ever met was Superman. Nightwing, ten-year-old sidekick at the time, gasped in surprise when Superman told him that Batman was his best friend and Batman didn't deny it. He watched them for the first time, interacting together like like partners, and  he figured it was true, evidence in the ways in which they spoke to each other, looked at each other, _touched_ each other.

Everything was tender, the way Superman nearly wrapped an arm around Batman’s torso and how the corner of Batman’s lips were always close to quirking up in a lopsided grin. That was when little Robin knew that he could trust Superman, because Batman did.

But then, as Nightwing went through memory lane, in the few months between him moving on from Robin and Jason joining the family and the nightlife, Superman’s smile noticeably became dimmer, like the sun had lost a few million years off its lifetime, and Batman became more intensely involved in Gotham and her children. Nightwing noticed it the first time the new guardian of Blüdhaven worked with the World's Finest. He noticed how Superman pulled back his hands and Batman hid in his cape like a shadow in the dark. Batman tried not to look at Superman, his face turned to look out into the city, and Superman seemed so ready to float away, up towards the sky never to return. 

Up until now, Nightwing never thought something was wrong because he didn't connect the pieces together because there were one missing. It was only when the Man of Steel came visiting, passing by for a brief moment, that Dick understood.

“Hey, Nightwing,” Superman greeted out, the wind billowing his cape gently. He was humming a little to himself, a brilliant smile as always. 

“Supes!” Nightwing greeted with a hug. “It's a relief to see you, especially after B came back from that outer world mission. Did something happen? He's more of a mopey than usual.”

Superman wavered a bit, scratching the back of his neck. “Maybe you should ask B about that,” he replied almost hesitantly. 

“You know he won’t tell me, Supes. Not when he can brood about it alone. What happened?”

The older man chuckled, but there was a defeated look in his eyes, nearly invisible behind his smile. “I guess we’ve been missing each other in the same way all these years. I just didn't think your father would be so cruel.”

Nightwing blinked at that, the way Superman spoke seemingly like a tragedy was being played out right before his very eyes. Once again, Nightwing couldn't help but inwardly sigh, knowing that Batman wasn't the nicest person to others at times. However, the younger man had yet to figure out what Batman did to Superman, to make the Kryptonian look so accepting and sad simultaneously.

“I have to go now,” Superman then said, smiling brightly again. “There's a flood in Vietnam. I'll come by another time and we’ll have lunch together.”

Nightwing nodded. “Sounds great,” he agreed, waving as Superman began to fly off into the distance. “Be careful!”

Alone, Nightwing  spent the next hour trying to figure out what Batman did to Superman within the past few decades.

Use Lois as bait for a supervillain? _No, it ended up with Batman being the actual target._ Poison the Kryptonian with Kryptonite? _Can't be. Not when Superman gave Batman a literal ring with a sizable chunk of Kryptonite attached to it. There was too much trust._ Threaten Ma and Pa Kent? _Wait, that wouldn't make sense. Everyone loved Ma and Pa._ Blackmail? _With what, though? Superman and Batman trusted each other with their secret identities way before anyone else knew. Maybe Batman insulted Superman in Kryptonian. But Supergirl or Superboy would've told somebody about that since every living Kryptonian on Earth always honed in on their native language with their super hearing. Besides, Batman would never insult Superman. Bicker, yes. Insult, absolutely not. Batman respected Superman too much for that, and Superman would never start more than a playful banter._

A little frustrated, Nightwing ended his patrol early after he made his rounds twice, sneaking into his apartment and changing into comfortable clothing. He threw himself face first into his bed. _What did Superman mean?_  How can two people miss each other when they were together a lot?

It wasn't as if they don't get to see each enough. It was quite the opposite. They saw each other almost _too_ much, almost desperate because Batman was rarely hesitant to let Superman into Gotham with the cape and Superman never turned down an invitation to come to the Manor - barring emergencies of course. There was a desperation to see each other, despite the weird distance that appeared that night a long time ago. It was kind of like two kids too shy to admit they liked the other and resorted to spending as much time together instead. What was not said in words was made up with the a closeness that never touched. 

Something clicked into place. 

 _They liked each other,_ Nightwing realized. _What about that sad look in Clark just now?_ _And the distance between them?_  Maybe they weren't just two kids who liked each other but two grown men who were kind of always been in love with each other. Maybe they never admitted it, just clinging onto whatever they could get for some reason.

That reason being because they already _knew_. They knew they loved each other. Batman knew Superman loved him. Superman just didn't know Batman loved him back until now because Bruce _lied._

_“ . . . I just didn't think your father would be so cruel.”_

“To himself,” Dick finished himself, lifting his head up in a near state of shock.

He truly understood what Clark meant by that.

.

.

.

Bruce was in the Cave, sitting in front of the computer. He would be doing work, but he was having a hard time focusing with Dick’s arms wrapped around his neck, check pressed against his shoulder. He could tell Dick wasn't feeling as happy as he usually was. This was one of his son’s tells, something that survived going from ten to twenty-four.

He didn't try saying anything since Dick arrived on his motorbike, dressed up as Nightwing. He didn't turn over his shoulder as his eldest walked up to him at his seat, throwing his domino mask carelessly onto the floor of the Cave and ended up in the position they were now. Bruce knew better than to say anything before Dick finally talked. The boy would never respond until he finally asked his questions. Questions that showed just how thoughtful his son was.

“You're a selfish man,” Dick finally said.

Bruce held his breath for a second longer. That wasn't a question. It was a statement. Dick was worried about him. Again. He didn't say anything, not until the questions were finished. 

“You have everything in the world, money, family, looks, success, Batman,” Dick continued. “But you're selfish and can never be happy. You've never been happy with having everything because you think it's too good for you. You don't think you deserve goodness.”

Bruce felt the blood beat through his heart. It was as hard as ice. 

“I know Clark loves you, Bruce,” Dick said. “I know you love him too. I know you lied.”

Bruce froze. He wanted to be anywhere else but here. Dick hadn't asked any questions yet. They couldn't move on without the questions. What was Dick going to ask? Was Bruce going to be lie? Why wasn't Dick asking any questions yet? He started talking again.

“But you're a good man too, Bruce,” Dick whispered against his shoulder, holding Bruce a little tighter. “That's where Damian gets it from, you know. I think everyone knows that, except you. You should tell him. He loves you. He really, _really_ loves you, Bruce.”

_I don't feel—_

With that, Dick became silent, and Bruce didn't say a thing. There wasn't any questions Dick wanted answered. He couldn't do anything but sit silently and stay still.

Bruce closed his eyes, and he waited, waited until Dick left, leaving him alone in the Cave without another word. And the emptiness besides himself reminded him just how lonely he was because he pushed people away. He was always waiting for them to leave him because nothing is forever, not even family.

For a brief moment, he didn't feel numb anymore because instead, a sharp pain burst from his heart. He thought on how much lonelier it would be when he had no one left.

Then he went back to work because he didn't want to imagine that. He couldn't risk letting someone be hurt because of him, not again. He'd already made so many mistakes, and the first one was running into that alleyway on Park Row.

.

.

.

_Gaule, the spider trickster terrorizing the people of planet Jup’no, is having the best time of her life, finding better victims of the “all-star” Justice League of Earth. “I've always wanted to do this!” she shouts, raising a hand towards Batman._

_Superman wants nothing more but to stop her because she’s coming at his best friend, but he couldn't do anything, not when he and Batman are wrapped by her silk, unable to break free. Not when it is created with magic. “Don't you **dare** ,” he tries anyway. He feels weak, powerless. _

_“Quiet, Kryptonian,” Gaule warns, smiling with jagged teeth. “I just want to listen to the Batman confess his greatest secrets. I've heard that the Dark Knight is ever so mysterious, and I find myself fascinated by him. Now, Batman, tell me what you wish to remain hidden!”_

_And the silk around Batman glows a purple color. Yet Batman doesn't speak, his jaw tightening with his teeth biting the bottom of his lips. Despite his weakened state, Superman could smell the blood. He could only imagine the pain Batman is putting up with to not say a word, his will like a brick wall._

_Gaule whines, growling in annoyance. She drags herself closer to Batman who glares at her with intensity. “Now that won't do,” she said, a smirk growing on her face. She leans in closely. “I have something that's change your mind.”_

_She kisses him, and Superman feels angry. He wants nothing more than to scream._

_When she let go, a fevered color is taking over Batman’s skin, flushed as he is breathing heavily now. It seems that he has resisted Gaule’s magic._

_**“I love you, Kal,”** Batman suddenly breaks, the pain look in his exposed eye hauntingly cruel. “I always have, but I'm afraid. I love you. I love you. I love you.” _

_Superman feels as time stopped, Batman’s words coming in a mantra that rekindles a hope he thought died more than almost two decades ago, a hope that Bruce loves him back. His best friend is in love with him._

Clark found himself staring at a barely opened, blank document, feeling so out of place because he had not yet taken in everything that had happened less than a week ago. He felt small, bursting with desire to fly to Gotham and demand Bruce to love him because the other man already did. At the same time, he wanted nothing more than to scream and yell because they had lost so much time. He wanted to grieve for what could’ve been, what _should’ve_ been.

But there he was, going on his life as normal, only 1 in the afternoon at his seat in his cubicle of the Daily Planet. He was afraid. He was afraid of Bruce apologizing again. He was afraid losing what they’d managed to salvage after that confession, the touches he was able to have without Bruce taking a step back. The lingering looks that last until Bruce looked away and Clark forced himself to move on for the rest of the day. Being allowed to stay just close enough.

“—llville? Clark? Clark, are you okay?”

Clark looked up from the computer screen, noticing that Lois had been standing next to him for almost a full minute. “Oh, sorry, Lois,” he said sheepishly, giving her a smile. “I was daydreaming a little too much, I guess.”

Not for a second did Lois believe him, and he knew that. “What happened?” she asked, getting straight to the point. “You don't have to tell me everything just yet, but don't lie to me, Clark. Let me help. I'm your friend.”

Lois was a damn fine woman, and anyone, man or woman, she chose to be with would be the luckiest person in the entire galaxy. Truly, at times, the world did not deserve her, and for that, Clark was grateful.

“A long time ago, before we went out, I told Bruce I loved him,” he answered truthfully, “and he rejected me.”

Lois’s eyebrows shot up in surprised. She knew that Clark and Bruce were best friends after Clark had revealed to her his superhero identity, but the farm boy never confessed that their relationship was once more than platonic. Immediately, when she got her bearing back, Lois grabbed her fellow journalist and ex-boyfriend by the arm and pulled him up to the roof of the Planet.

“You never told me,” she said, closing the door behind them. This conversation was far too intimate to let anyone overhear them. “Do you know why he rejected you?”

Clark hesitated. “I don't know,” he answered in monotone. “He said he was afraid.”

“And what do you think about that?”

“I want to comfort him,” Clark spoke quietly, looking at his shoes in yearning. He smiled a little. “He closed himself up to the world, but he let me in. He makes me feel special because I am loved by _him_.”

Lois smiled gently at that. “Why are you bringing up now?” she continued, placing a hand on his shoulder. “ _We_ went out years ago, Clark.”

Clark looked up. “We were just unfortunate, I guess. I believed him all these years, and I just find out he's been lying ever since. I don't know what to do, Lois. I want to be with him, but I don't know how I'll end up if he lies again.”

_—ope we remain good friends._

He didn't think he could face his best friend ever again, and that only made him miss Bruce even more than he already did.

“Then try again,” Lois answered with so much confidence. There was a fire in her lilac eyes. “Maybe he'll lie to you, but no matter how heartbroken you get, you have to remember that he loves you and that _you_ love him. Honestly, if he keeps being so self-deprecating, he doesn't deserve you, but to accept his lie and give up would be wrong because it isn't you to accept lies and give up. Keep trying, Clark, because we both know that he can't say no to you forever. Because he loves you. It seems that he always has.”

Clark smiled, blinking away the threats of tears. He pulled his friend into a firm hug. “Thank you, Lois,” he said quietly, feeling years younger. “You know the best things to say.”

Lois hugged him back, letting out a laugh. “Of course, I do, Smallville. I'm a Pulitzer-prize winning journalist. It's my job.”

They pulled apart. “I need some time before I try again,” Clark told her. “For the both of us.”

Lois nodded, patting his cheek. “I'll keep my shoulder warm for you. Good luck, Smallville.”

.

.

.

The Cave was quiet. As it was most of the time. It had the kind of quiet that made it difficult to tell whether it was daytime or nighttime, but the bags growing darker under Bruce’s eyes said the Cave had been quiet for hours.

Bruce didn't flinched when a cup of hot chocolate was pressed gently against the side of his face. He turned away from the screen. “Hello, Cassandra,” he greeted his daughter, who was dressed in one of his white dress shirt. Sometimes, she took other people’s clothings, and anything too big for her, she wore like a dress, looking pleasantly happy and cozy. He wouldn't want her any other way.

“Hi, Bruce,” the raven said with a smile. She passed him the cup, and he accepted it without question. She sat down on the cold floor, back pressed against the wall for the computer with hot chocolate in her hands. “You're thinking loud.”

_—I love you. I love you. I love you._

Bruce raised a curious eyebrow. “There's a lot of things to think about,” he replied, deciding he should finish the chocolate before going back to work. “You're thinking loud too.”

Cassandra nodded, taking a sip. “I saw Dick earlier. He wanted to shed his skin. Like he wasn't happy with it. Upset.”

Bruce frowned. “He didn't do anything wrong.”

This time, she shook her head. “No. He didn't _see._ He wants you to be happy.”

“And I want him to be happy too. He worries. It's his nature to be disappointed in himself if he doesn't noticed first.”

“Notice what?”

Bruce shook his head. “Nothing. It's just old news. Nothing to think too loudly about anymore.”

“You do. Talking _helps._ Babs says so.”

Again, Bruce shook his head. “I'm fine, Cassandra. It'll figure itself out.”

Cassandra frowned. “You lie,” she said slowly. “You’re hurting. And afraid. Me too. Used to. Then you. Steph. Babs. Alfred. Dick. Tim. Dami. Jay. Azrael. Kon. Everyone. Gotham. _Love_.”

Bruce sighed, closing his eyes.

“I can name more, B,” she said. “Dozens. You showed me I had faces. You should show yours more. All of them. Bats can smile too. I do.”

For a moment, hearing his daughter speak so sweetly, he felt the blood in his heart pump out, and it was a shimmering heat.

.

.

.

It started with a bouquet wrapped with a ribbon. Batman did not expect, finding them on top of the Batmobile after helping GCPD arrest some newly initiates of a small time gang. They stood out, even in the darkness of the alleyway.

He touched one of them gingerly, unable to feel its organic petal through his thick gloves, but still, he felt a soft texture on his skin underneath. He picked it up and gingerly placed it on a broken chair left by the dumpster. The softness receded.

Batman drove away, leaving the bouquet in the darkness. From the corner of his cowl, he thought he saw a fluttering of red, but he did not look back. It'd hurt less this way. The confession still felt raw on his tongue. He had never said it out loud before, two decades of hiding it, and it was ripped out from him without consent.

He tried to forget about the bouquet, but they were seven purple-blue morning glories and the ribbon was white.

.

.

.

When he watched Batman pick up his flowers, Superman smiled. When he watched them be left behind, he felt his heart squeeze in disappointment and rejection. It was difficult to breathe for just a moment, despite how much oxygen there was. He picked the flowers up as the Batmobile drove away, unknowingly letting his eyes watch it disappear.

The strongest man on earth couldn't bear to try again for another two weeks. Then he tried daffodils, placing them on top of his best friend’s favorite view. Batman left those behind too.

“Keep it up, Smallville," Lois softly encouraged. She placed a caring hand on his shoulder. "He didn't reject you again. You'd have heard it.”

Then he tried begonias. Marigolds. Dahlias. Camellias. Bellflowers. Roses. Asters. Peonies. Sweet peas. Lilies of the Nile. Nerines. Amaryllises. And then gard-

“Hand those to me, alien,” Robin demanded, catching Superman in the act. The older man had just placed the flower on the Batmobile, his friend off fighting Penguin again. “Don't think I wouldn't notice you sending Father gifts for the past weeks.”

Superman instantly felt guilty because maybe he was being too persistent. Was Robin upset about this? He should've been more considerate about the people this pursuit would affect.

Robin clicked his tongue, holding out a green gloved hand. “I know why you're doing this,” the boy explained, “and I know what you mean to Father. Nightwing told me, and he's upset about it somehow. So consider this a favor. I'll make sure Father gets them.”

That made Superman smile. He handed the flower to Robin. “Thank you,” he said softly, a bit of hope for the first time. “It means a lot to me.”

Robin huffed, turning away. “Don't get too friendly, alien. It's for him, not you. Once you've been considered an annoyance, I'll drive you out of Gotham myself.”

The boy swung away, and Superman waved him farewell with a smile hopeful.

.

.

.

“Father,” Damian said when they rendezvous back at the Cave. He was holding a white flowers carefully in his hand, bringing it up to Bruce like an offering. “These are for you. It's from the alien. He wishes for your attention.”

Bruce stared at them for a moment, feeling a little angry. Clark was using his children against him. “I don't want it,” he said, dismissing with a wave.

But Damian was not deterred, his blue eyes unwavering. “Yes, you do,” he countered, holding it up again. “He didn't ask me. I offered. It's yours, Father. Be happy with it.”

Bruce pursed his lips, the angry dying immediately. He held out his hand. “Fine.”

“Take off your glove, Father. You can't feel it properly.”

The patriarch let out a tired sigh, doing at his youngest said. He threw his gloves onto the computer chair, and he held out his hands. Damian nodded, pleased, and passed his father the gardenia.

And like the morning glories, it was soft. This time, he felt it on his skin, not having to imagine its texture. It was very pretty with its many petals, big. It was _beautiful_.

“Thank you,” Bruce said, liking how it felt.

“Thank the alien,” Damian replied from the locker room. Once in more casual clothes, he returned to his father, looking up at him. “I don't like him much, but I know he makes you happy. And Grayson likes him well enough. So I can try, Father, if you give me cause to.”

Bruce broke into a smile because his son was grown, _changed_. Damian used to be a like egocentric prince with no qualms killing people, innocent or guilty, but here he was now, three years later accepting strangers as friends and family. He could not help but feel profound love for his youngest - for all his children and more. 

And all at once, he realized that there was no numbness in his heart. There never was. There had long been warmth coursing through his veins, his flesh and blood existing beyond his knowledge. His heart had always been beating like a man alive. He had merely blinded himself. It was this act of love—of change—that was the last break of the mirage and tore away the veil of fear, and he was seeing himself so clearly for the first time in years.  

“He’s very dear to me,” Bruce finally replied, and he cried, tears falling onto the gardenia like morning dew.

Damian didn't reply. Rather, he spoke a thousand and one words with an embrace, his thin arms wrapped around his father’s waist. He pressed the side of his face against Bruce’s stomach and held on.

.

.

.

_“Kal,” he calls out softly. They are laying on his bed, not an inches between them. The sun is bleeding into the cold night sky. This is a moment of peace._

_“Hey,” Clark replies with the same tenderness. He reaches out to brush his fingers from the shoulder to the beautiful face of his lover, his best friend. He lets out a breath in awe. “I'm finally holding the universe in my hand. I've never felt so powerful before.”_

_Bruce laughs, looking away in shame. “I hurt you too much,” he reminds them both, pressing his hand against Clark’s, “to be the universe.”_

_“You’re right,”—Bruce's lips thin out with regret—“but I would do it all over again, if I had to. If it means we'd come back to this moment, waking up in the morning like this, and continue onwards because I love you. I love you more than the pain could ever hurt.”_

_Bruce couldn't return those words yet because he is a cowardly snail slowly making his way out of his shell, but he kisses his lover on the lips, chaste and soft. He begins to breathe in life in exchange for tears and apologies, exhaling with a content and butterfly sigh._

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my work(s), please check out my Twitter and consider supporting me: [@kappachyun](https://twitter.com/kappachyun?s=09).


End file.
